Chapter 1: Center of the Universe
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Two Months after Mark Left
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Mark sat at the desk trying to figure out which shots to use for the publicity reel for the company. He leaned back to take a small break, and once again messed with the tie around his neck.
"Hey, Mark, how's it going?"
Mark looked up to see Benny in his doorway.
"I've sold my soul, I'm fighting the need to sleep and I really haven't eaten all morning...I say thing are going pretty good."
Benny made a soft chuckle before looking back, "Just remember what this is letting you do."
"I know, I know."
"You're doing the right thing, Mark." He said as he left to go back to his own office down the hall.
"And it's only an hour until I'm home sweet home until Monday." Mark mumble going back to the different shots.
He finished the reel, grabbed it and the rest of his stuff.
"Headed out for the weekend, Mark?" Ian asked as he received the reel.
"I'm trying."
"Have a good one."
"You too."
"See you on Sunday?"
"Yep, as long you don't mind me bringing..."
"No. Just come."
"Alright."
Mark headed out the building ripping his tie off along the way and started his way home. He made it a few blocks before he realized he had gone the wrong direction--again. He turned around, and beginning running the rest of the way home. Home, was a small apartment he had bought about three months ago...with the money from the job Benny had pulled a few strings to get him. It wasn't much...but it was home, again.
"I'm home. How were they?"
Old Mrs. Morgan struggled to push herself off the couch, "Cohen, they're two months old...they don't do much."
"Sorry, I asked." He mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?"
"I said I'll get your check."
"It about time."
He gave the woman her check and saw her to the door with a thank you and good-bye. Shutting the door, Mark stripped out of the suit on his way to his bedroom. Managing to pull on a pair of pants and an old shirt of Roger's he had accidentally nicked when he had left before a small wail erupted through the apartment Mark dragged himself across the hall.
"Shh...Shh. Before both you wake your brother up. Daddy's here."
He picked up the green clad baby boy, "Come here Shea, buddy. What do you want?"
Shea began calming down as his brother began to squirm from the other half of the crib. Mark rolled his eyes, "You are Roger's sons. There's absolutely no doubt. Destined to torture me."
Shifting Shea to one arm he pulled London out with the other, a trick he had learned to master early. He made his way carefully to the couch, setting Shea down in the crib on the floor, and walking London into the kitchen to grab a bottle and warm it up. Sitting down to feed London, he manuevered his foot to gently rock Shea's carrier.
"Calm." Mark announced.
He knew this was what he was meant to be doing...He didn't know how he knew or why--none of that mattered, but he wanted the boys to have a family, their own family. In Mark's eyes, the family was already tearing bit by bit, if it meant the core of the group had to lose one piece so they'd get to have a least on part, it was a sacrifice that had to be made. He understood why Roger and Mimi did what they did; it wasn't that they didn't want their kids, no; if anything they wanted them too much. But the bottom line of the situation, Mimi had told Mark was they didn't want their kids witnessing their deaths, feeling loss that was destined to come at a early age, they didn't want the boys to be surrounded by mistakes of the past, and Mark was going to honor their wishes. They had made their decision, he was making his.
"Here we go...okay. Switch." He told the two disinterest newborns.
After a small amount of struggle Shea was being fed and soon there was nothing more to do. In his arms Shea let out a small yawn,
"Yeah, Shea, a nap sounds like a very good idea. Daddy needs a nap."
With Shea lying against his chest and London content in his carrier, Mark managed to drift off to an hour long name.
Beeeeeep. Beeeep.
The sound of the cheap phone pierced the silence.
"Roger, take your AZT." Mark mumbled, but the beeping persisted.
Finally awake, Mark swung his free arm to grab a hold the phone.
"'Ello?"
"Mark?" Joanne's voice came trough the only side. She had helped him with the adoption paperwork.
"Joanne..."
"Don't worry. I'm alone; no one knows I'm calling. How are you?"
"Good. The boys and I are just taking a nap."
"he..." he could here a small laugh.
"What?"
"'The boys and I,' Mark? You're really taking to this parenting thing..."
"At least someone is." The moment he said it, he regretted it.
"Mark."
"I know."
"I know. Um, I'm gonna let you go, I can her Maureen coming. Bye..."
"Bye, Jo."
He sat the phone back in its place and looked at the two boys in front of him. He gently set Shea down in other carrier and retrieved his camera from a nearby table, and turned it on.
"Zoom in on Shea and London Cohen...center of the universe."
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Okay, there's chapter two…and I know there was something I need to put here, but I'll eventually remember…Oh, well. Oh and…it takes place about a year and five months after the end of RENT.
Thanks for reading.
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Until next time, this is me...signing out
